Dimitri's Daughter
by T3hMusicFreak
Summary: Anya, Dimitri, and their little girl, Elena, are sleeping in a cabin on the Tasha. Dimitri wakes in the middle of the night to find that Elena is not in her bed. A peculiar series of events unfolds. There's more to the plot than the summary. Promise.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first FanFic. I don't know if I should keep this as a one-shot or not. Please R/R.**

**I do not own the rights to **_**Anastasia**_** and its components, only Elena. **

She looked like she was about to jump into the churning waves. Trying his best not to panic, Dimitri grabbed his daughter, Elena, and lifted her up, away from the side of the boat. He tried to set her feet down on the deck, but the little girl kept struggling against his grip on her arms. That's when he saw that her eyes were closed.

This was all too familiar.

Dimitri knew what he had to do.

"Elena! Wake up! It's me!" he yelled, almost pleading her to wake up from her nightmare.

Sure enough, Elena's blue eyes fluttered open, and Dimitri saw how terrified she was. More than she had ever been. This was unlike her, the girl who always smiled, never afraid of anything… until now. Until he had almost lost her.

She was hyperventilating. "Papa! Don't let them hurt me!" She was not yet fully awake. Elena's little fists grabbed Dimitri's shirt. A few of her stray brown locks were plastered to her face, as she held on for dear life.

He wanted to know what had happened in his daughter's dream, fearing that it was similar to that day when… No. It couldn't be the same. Rasputin was gone.

"P…Papa," Elena stammered, her blue eyes brimming with tears. "I had a bad dream…"

Dimitri lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her small, shaking frame as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Shh… I know sweetheart," he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly. "It's okay now. It's over."

"B…but…he said… he… he's coming… back…" she whimpered, holding onto him as if he would disappear if she let go.

Dimitri's breath hitched in his throat. "What are you talking about Ella?"

She lifted her tear-streaked face from his shoulder briefly. "He…he said his name… it's… Rasputin." Elena promptly hid her face once more in her father's shoulder, bursting into sobs.

_Impossible! Anya and I got rid of him_, Dimitri thought, lightly stroking Elena's sopping wet hair as he tightened his grip on her.

He snapped out of his reverie. Now wasn't the time to think about that.

"Let's get you inside sweetie. I don't want you to catch a cold."

Elena lifted her face out of his shoulder and nuzzled her head under Dimitri's chin. "He…he's not gonna hurt me… is he?"

"Don't worry Ella," he gently moved some strands of hair from her face. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She looked up at him pleadingly. "Promise?"

"Anything for you, malinkaya," Dimitri's fear for his daughter's life turned into a smile as he carried his little girl back to their cabin. She needed some dry clothes.

Malinkaya – little one


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to write this chapter. I had numerous grad parties to attend this past weekend, and my high school commencement was last night, so I haven't had much time to write.**

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"I wish she'd stop coughing and shut up already," the boy mumbled, resting his cheek on his fist and his elbow on one side of the armchair, just softly enough so Sophie wouldn't hear him. Sure enough, Sophie entered the parlor of Marie's mansion with a tray of tea, setting it on the small table between the two green armchairs. "I don't get why you don't have one of the maids make the tea," he wondered briefly. Sophie was quick to reply, as always, in her upbeat manner, "Chèr Lucien! It is homemade!"

_All she does is pour hot water into a cup with tea leaves._ He looked into the cup. _Fantastic. Green tea, _he mused sarcastically as he brought the cup to his lips, _I hate being polite_. He took one big gulp, to get it over with.

Just then, the girl coughed, startling Lucien, whose remaining tea was now on his shirt, the teacup broken on the floor.

_My new shirt…_ "Um, Miss Sophie?" he stood up. "Yes dear?" "Is it okay if I go change my shirt?" he asked, gesturing to the large green splotch.

Sophie looked at Lucien's soiled shirt and laughed heartily, "Ohohoho! Look at you! It looks as if you rubbed plants on your shirt." Seeing that the boy was not amused, she paused to compose herself, still giggling. "Lucien, you may go change your shirt. It is actually almost time for me to take a stroll with Marie and have _un petit déjuner_ [lunch] with her granddaughter and her husband." Sophie pinched Lucien's cheeks. "Now you be a good boy while I'm gone!"

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_She hasn't coughed in a while._

Lucien stood in front of the mirror, meticulously adjusting his tie and the collar of another white shirt he had selected from the adjacent cupboard. He checked to make sure his light brown hair was coifed as his amber eyes met the pair staring back at him. Lucien sighed contently, continuing to revel in the silence, and turned to head back downstairs.

He froze upon seeing the small figure in the doorway. It coughed and stepped forward. A little girl stood in front of him, looking at him with her almond-shaped blue eyes. Her hair was bedraggled in the fullest sense of the word, probably from tossing and turning in her bed. Each of her hands held the ends of a large white comforter around her small frame, while the rest of it trailed behind her like a ridiculously long dress tail.

The two stared at each other for a solid two minutes before the little girl sneezed, wiped her nose, and spoke.

"My name's Elena. What's yours?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I apologize for the infrequent updates and the short chapters. I've been doing a full-time internship since my last update, and only now, as it's winding down, do I have time to write for recreation. Also, I'm getting ready to leave town for my freshman year in college at the end of this month (YAY!), so I probably won't be able to complete a new chapter (BOO!) until then. Anyways, thank you so much for the great reviews! The songs I listened to while writing this chapter were: [Claire de Lune – Mutsohiro Nishiwaki], and [Variations on a Theme by Erik Satie (1****st**** movement) – Blood, Sweat & Tears]**

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"Why are you talking to me?" Lucien snapped at the younger girl in front of him.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Elena looked into the boy's piercing amber eyes. There was something… familiar about him, about that stare. Her heart began fluttering in her chest, but not in the same way as it did when the blonde-haired boy at the park had given her his ice cream cone after she had dropped hers on the ground. No, this was nothing like that. A wave of fear and panic coursed through Elena's body as she felt the walls rising… or was she falling? Before she could make sense of what was happening, she blacked out.

"_P…Papa," Elena stammered, her blue eyes brimming with tears. "I had a bad dream…"_

_Dimitri lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her small, shaking frame as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Shh… I know sweetheart," he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly. "It's okay now. It's over." _

"_B…but…he said… he… he's coming… back…" _

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When she came to, Elena found that she was lying exactly where she had lost consciousness. She tried to stand up, but she found that she had tangled herself in her own blanket, which made rustling noises as she tried to disentangle herself. The boy, writing in a notebook at his desk, spoke without turning around.

"You're awake."

Elena, irked by the boy's dismissive attitude, picked up the conversation from before.

"What's your name?"

The boy still didn't turn around, but answered.

"Lucien."

Elena smirked. Now she could get his attention. "Well, _Lucy_," she paused to see him break his pencil in his fist. "It's not very gentleman-like to leave a beautiful young lady such as myself lying on the floor of your room, is it?"

Lucien stood up from his chair and turned to face the girl who had the nerve to call him Lucy.

"No, it is not gentleman-like. However, you're not a young lady. You're what, four years old?"

Infuriated, Elena stood up and stomped over to Lucien.

"_Actually_, I'm seven."

"Well _excuse_ me, pipsqueak."

"Pipsqueak?!" Elena shrieked. "You're not much older than I am!"

"Pfft," he scoffed. "I'm definitely more mature than you."

"HA! So mature that you treat your hostess like… UGH!" She pivoted on her heel and stomped towards the door, grabbing her blanket on the way. "I'll call you mature when you can think of a better insult than 'pipsqueak'!" Elena spat as she flung the door open with such force that the doorknob made a crescent-shaped dent in Lucien's wall before bouncing off and swinging closed with a slam.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry! I know it's been one day over a year since the last update, and I've been mentally kicking myself for not updating sooner, believe me, but I actually gained an active social life this past year, which, between that and schoolwork, didn't leave me with all that much time to myself. But enough with lame excuses, here's the next chapter.**

Jakob burst into his daughter's room to find her peeking out timidly from under her covers at the side of her bed. He hastily grabbed her coat.

"Papa, what's going on?"

A shot rang out somewhere else in the abandoned warehouse, and Lizaveta pulled the covers over her head.

"Papa!" she screamed as Jakob pulled back the covers and helped her put on her coat with a heightened sense of urgency.

"Shh! We have to hurry! As quietly as we can!"

But this sense of urgency was mostly lost on the little girl, who had other priorities. "Where's Tanya? I'm not going anywhere without Tanya," she pouted.

Jakob noticed that the footsteps and shots were getting closer. "We don't have time!"

At this the little girl's brown eyes filled with tears. Jakob gently shushed her and quickly retrieved her beloved rag doll, took her hand, and began running through the halls, taking care not to tread onto weak floorboards. Thinking quickly, he lifted Lizaveta into his arms without breaking stride and threw open the door to an unused room a bit further down the hall. Scanning the room, Jakob hurriedly climbed into a cupboard and shut the door gently… just as the echoes of the boots arrived two doors down.

The men had stopped at the child's room, where father and daughter had been moments before.

"Lishka, listen carefully," Jakob whispered, trying as hard as he could to suppress the fear in his voice. "You mustn't make a sound, no matter how scary this gets, alright?"

She nodded, her eyes wide with terror. Jakob knelt down and held Lizaveta tight as he cloaked her with his coat to make her feel safe, although his coat could no more protect his little girl than a slip of paper.

The sound of a man reloading his gun was a solid click that broke the silence. "Quiet," a man with a voice like the crunch of feet on gravel commanded in a grating whisper. He stepped into Lizaveta's room and tried to coax her out of where he thought she was. "Come out, little girl!" he chimed. "Where aaaaaaare youuuuuuu?" He fired a shot at her bed as feathers flew everywhere.

Lizaveta whimpered once as she clenched Jakob's shirt and buried her face into it, trembling with fear. She had been quiet, but the thundering of the boots came closer—too close. Then came a booming, yet scratchy voice that chilled Jakob to the bone. "Quickly! I've found them! They're in here!"

Jakob pulled a small pistol out of his pocket. "Hold on as tight as you can and don't look," he instructed Lizaveta as he picked her up and loaded his pistol. He couldn't believe that he would shoot anyone in front of his little girl, but Jakob knew that if he wanted Lizaveta to survive, then he would have to defend her by any means necessary.


End file.
